Hogwarts at Midnight
by Heart and Mind
Summary: Short story inspired by 'Secrets of the Castle' from the POA soundtrack. Rated for mild swearing. 'With a pained look he whispered to himself,“You’re a trusting fool Albus.'


A/N: A little thing I found on my computer a while ago. It was written before HBP but I just realized that it works with HBP. I had originally had a longer plot, but I think this works as a one shot.

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K Rowling! So you can read this for free! Enjoy.

It was late at night in the Hogwarts Castle. Peace and quiet blanketed the grounds, a rare commodity to those that did not appreciate the hustle and bustle of the school day. The loud shouts and chatter were replaced with the soft rustle of the evening breeze, and in place of the busy students were only shadows.

It was in this silent hour that teachers gave into sleep, and left their papers to grade the next day; while the students finished their games or last minute work, and hurried to bed.

It was this time that Albus loved most. It never ceased to amaze him, even after 100 years, how different his school seemed in the darkness. As he walked the halls in his lavender night robe, Albus could almost imagine the calm corridor filled with chaos and laughter.

Rain quietly pattered the windows as he stepped closer to look out. Torchlight behind him reflected his face in the mirror as his blue-eyed gaze swept the grounds. Albus was content.

It was times like these that made it hard to believe a war was beginning in the world; the world which now seemed to sleep as soundly as his home, exhausted from the day's trials and tribulations. Albus could almost imagine the faint breeze was the castles sigh of relief. Albus chuckled to himself, and patted the stone wall fondly. The breeze ruffled his beard in return.

As a student he had rarely paid attention to curfew. Most teachers liked to believe their students would be abed at this hour, but Albus knew better. A twinkle appeared behind his half-moon glasses, as he watched a large woman in a flailing pink dress sprinting through various portraits to catch him.

It was the Fat Lady.

"Good evening Lady. What brings you about at this hour?" He inquired pleasantly, already suspecting he knew the answer.

"Headmaster," said the Fat Lady breathlessly, her face flushed from exertion. "You… weren't in your office." She admonished with a slight wheeze. "I had to ask Nigellus for directions!"

Albus tried to keep a straight face. "I'm terribly sorry. I had the strongest urge for a bit of walking. What seems to be the matter?"

"The usual," she answered primly, cooling herself with a pink hand fan. "Students out of bed. Honestly, I don't know why-"

"May I ask who is out of bed at this hour?"

"I could not tell you Headmaster." She answered with a slight gesture of her hand. "They were invisible."

A smile twitched beneath Albus's beard.

"They?"

"I heard two voices talking. Male I believe. Older as well." Ah ha! His suspicions were correct.

"Is that all?"

"Yes Headmaster."

"You may return to your portrait if you wish. Have a good evening."

"Thank you Headmaster." She answered with a small bow. Straightening she turned down the corridor at a leisurely pace, humming to herself.

Albus looked outside, and his reflection smiled back at him through the window. Sometimes he missed the excitement of sneaking out past curfew. Oh, the joy of knowing he had bested the teachers once again was always a rush. But one thing Albus knew from his past endeavors was that to those that knew its location, a night out of bed was never complete without a visit to the kitchens.

Perhaps now would be a good time for some hot chocolate and a chat with the house elves. Yes, they would be ecstatic. A small smile graced the headmaster's face as he headed toward the kitchens.

* * *

Harry flew at breakneck speed. Wind buffeted him through the air as the snitch zoomed in and out of sight. He had to catch it! 

The golden ball zagged across the field and dropped sharply toward the ground. Harry grabbed his broom handle, and with all his strength he threw his weight forward, following closely.

Hermione said the snitch would tell him where he put his special potions book, and he had to know where it was before class!

The snitch flew just out of reach and it circled his head. Harry stopped in surprise. It was taunting him!

"Haaarrryyyy!" The snitch called. It was mocking him! He had to grab it and find his paper.

"Haarryy!" Harry reached to snatch the golden ball from the air but it circled away. When he tried to follow, his broom wouldn't move. Confused Harry looked down, and realized he was lying on a bed.

"Harry!" Wait, why was he sleeping when he had to grab the snitch?

"Harry, you bloody sod get up!" Harry rolled over and squinted through the dark. Ron was standing by his bed, trying to shake him awake.

"Mmff." Harry groaned and swatted Ron's hands away, trying to burrow back under the blankets. They were so warm…

"Get up, you need to see this!" said Ron as he threw off the covers. Harry gasped as cold air surrounded his body, and brought goose bumps to his skin. Shivering, Harry sat up and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. The world cleared and Ron's shadowed face came into focus.

"It's the middle of the night." Harry snapped; miffed at being woken so soon. The moon was shining through the stormy clouds, casting a pale light on the dormitory, and illuminating his sleeping roommates. He turned his attention back to Ron. "What are you going on about?"

"Hermione's found a book!" said Ron in an energized whisper, eyes gleaming with excitement. Harry stared.

"You woke me up in the middle of the night… to tell me that Hermione, our Hermione, found a book?" Harry said slowly, as if he were speaking to a rather dim child.

"Yes!" Ron answered loudly. Seamus mumbled from his bed nearby and rolled over in annoyance.

"I'm going back to bed…" Harry moved as if to lie back down but Ron grabbed his arm and yanked him off the mattress and onto the cold stone floor.

"No you don't. Come and see." Ron was digging through Harry's trunk and tossed him a sweater. Harry followed him out of the dormitory and through the common room.

"Can't this wait until morning?" Harry asked, pulling the shirt on over his head. It was the newest Weasley Jumper; green with a golden snitch embroidered in the center.

"No," said Ron, grabbing something silvery off the coach. "It's in the restricted section."

"That's my cloak!" exclaimed Harry indignantly.

"Sorry mate, we needed it." Ron said with a shrug as he threw the cloak over them both. "Hermione has the map in the library now." He finished as they walked out the portrait hole.

"Should I start locking my trunk?"

"Hermione would just find a way to unlock it." He said, and they headed for the stairs to the fourth floor. Harry felt a stab of annoyance.

"You could have just asked me you know." He said, more coldly than he meant too.

Ron glanced over wearily at Harry's tone, as they entered the stairwell and waited for the closest set to swivel their way.

"Hermione didn't want me to wake you mate, you haven't had much sleep as it is."

Harry immediately felt bad for snapping at Ron, who he knew was only worried about him, and quickly tried to change the subject. But before he got the chance to speak, they heard the last person they wanted to meet, moving on the stairs above them. They froze on the spot, and stared at each other with horrified expressions.

"Damned old man, where does he think I can find basilisk skin if not Knockturn Alley?"

Professor Snape stood upon the stair directly above them; waiting for it to stop at the same platform they were currently huddled. Together, they gazed through the steps, praying silently to Merlin that the stairs would cooperate, and let them off the platform before the other stopped. But, to their dismay, the stairs did not listen.

With a soft _shunk,_ the steps connected, and Snape stepped onto the narrow landing, black robes billowing. Desperately, Harry and Ron pressed against the wall watching his every move.

He stood hunched over with his arms crossed, appearing deep in thought. His greasy hair gave off an oily shine, and a frown creased his brow; but it was the most pleasant look Harry had ever seen on Snape's face. It was the first he had seen the man without a sneer or snarl, and the change was dramatic.

The seconds seemed to span into minutes, and the minutes to hours. Harry and Ron hardly dared to glance at each other, for fear he could pick up the sound of their muscles creaking. Harry was positive the potions master could hear his racing heartbeat in the penetrable silence.

Suddenly, to the teens' horror and utter fascination, Snape's hand snatched his left forearm, and with a pained look he whispered to himself, audible to the wizards not even two feet away.

"You're a trusting fool Albus…"

At that moment, the long awaited stairs returned, and Snape continued on his way down the steps, and through the door two floors below. Not caring if they had to wait for the stairs to return again, Harry and Ron slumped against the wall and sat on the ground, heaving sighs of relief.

"Bloody hell." Ron exclaimed weakly.

Harry had to agree.

* * *

So how did everyone like HBP? 

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review.

-Heart and Mind


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